Presumptuous Love
by Hp'DH'fan
Summary: Harry and Draco find themselves falling in love against their will. Thus the title Presumptuous as in unwanted...


Presumptuous Love

-Chapter 1-

Harry walked into the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione Saturday morning, still grumbling after being woken up to Ron's yells of sudden disgust.

"Why must she always insist on buying me maroon? She knows I hate it!"

Ron held the offending article at arm's length, staring at it in distaste.

"Ron, mate, what are you on about?" Harry cracked open an eye reluctantly and sat up in bed.

"Hermione!" Ron cried. "She bought me another maroon sweater! Why!?"

"Because she knows it aggravates you. Now shut up."

Remembering the argument, Harry had to hide a smile. Ever since Ron and Hermione had began dating—a weird thought, even to him—they had been at each other's throats.

And the entire way to the hall, Harry had to put up with Ron and Hermione's bickering. When they walked in, he allowed his bright green eyes to wander around the room, scoping the scene. As the three of them neared the long Gryffindor house table, Harry's eyes found the immaculately groomed blonde head of the Slytherin that has been haunting his dreams for months.

Harry sat down and started piling his plate with every kind of food within reach. He wasn't paying a bit of attention to what he was eating, however, as his mind was kept occupied with something much more fascinating. He stared over at the Slytherin table.

"-What do you think, Harry? Harry!"

Harry shook himself out of his daze and focused in on his friend. Ron was peering at him curiously.

"Wha-? Oh, sorry Ron. What were you saying?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to the Quidditch Pitch later and toss the quaffle around for me."

"Yeah, sure whatever."

Draco Malfoy sat slowly down at the Slytherin house table with his girlfriend Pansy Parkinson and his two best mates Crabbe and Goyle. He usually slept in as late as he could on the weekends, but this morning he was up on time to have breakfast with the rest of the school. Pansy was quick to notice his odd behavior even if Crabbe and Goyle were too dense to see it.

"What the bloody hell are you doing down here so bloody early on a Saturday morning, Draco?"

Draco snapped his head around.

"What? Is a man not free to get up early every once in a while anymore?" Draco snarled in her face. "I had a weird dream and woke up, so I decided to come down." He quickly began piling bacon and buttery pancakes on his plate ate stoically. His eyes wandered to the Gryffindor table. There was Harry, sitting there with his dorky red-haired friend and that mud-blood, Granger.

"Draco? What are you staring at?" asked Pansy following his gaze to the Gryffindor table where his arch-nemesis sat staring aimlessly at a point a foot above her head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Draco retorted. "Why can't everybody just leave me alone?!"

Eyeing her boyfriend warily, Pansy took the hint.

"Sorry babe, I was just worried."

"Forget it. I'm going out to the Quidditch Pitch"

As Harry and Ron neared the pitch, a green blur raced from one goal post to the other and then back again.

"Oh great!" moaned Ron. "Just what I need: a stupid Slytherin around during my training session. Wonder who the unlucky bloke is."

It didn't take long for Ron to get his answer.

Draco Malfoy landed with smirk in front of them. "Potter and the Weasel on my Quidditch pitch," he drawled, taking a menacing step forward. "I suggest you leave now."

"YOUR Quidditch pitch, Malfoy?" replied Harry with a smile and drawl to match. "It's just as much ours as yours."

Draco eyed them both, his gaze hard and cold.

"Fine, Potter. You stay on this end and I'll stay on the other end. Just don't bother me." With that he sped off, knocking Ron's hat off in his wake.

Ron and Harry grabbed their brooms and a spare quaffle out of the changing rooms and zoomed up to the goal posts to practice.

"Great catch Ron!" Harry shouted before he spun around to watch Draco rocketing around the other end tirelessly after the spare snitch. Harry couldn't help himself from grinning as he watched Malfoy. Despite their endless insults and verbal wars, Harry recognized talent on the Quiddich field when he saw it. And Malfoy had it. He was only brought back to earth and the present when Ron punched him in the arm as he swooped past Harry's stock still broomstick.

"Harry, you're supposed to be throwing quaffles, not looking at Malfoy!" Ron performed a couple of loops around his friend.

Harry snapped his head around. "Huh? Oh, sorry," Harry's words spilled out of his mouth quickly, jumbling together ineloquently. I'm just… spying on his technique so I can beat him easily in the match next week."

"Come on mate!" Ron laughed, rolling his eyes. "You don't need to spy on him to beat him! Gryffindor has won the last 5 years we've played them."

"Oh all right." Replied Harry icily. He spun back around to throw Ron a few more goals before dusk

Thirty feet away, Draco Malfoy skidded to a stop with the struggling golden snitch trapped in his sweaty hand. Looking straight ahead, he saw Potter and Weasley engrossed in conversation. Smiling with an odd sense of satisfaction, Draco noticed that Harry wasn't enjoying his little chat. He let the snitch fly out of his hand again before chasing it over toward them.

A slight buzzing in Harry's ear distracted him as the quaffle flew out of his hand. It hit the right goal post a feet away from where he was aiming. Leaving the quaffle and finally recognizing the buzzing, Harry took off after the snitch. He soared straight for Malfoy and snatched the little golden ball just as Malfoy reached out for it. Smiling cheekily at Malfoy, Harry took off on for an honorary lap around the pitch.

By the time Harry and Ron left the pitch, it was almost dusk and they could smell the delicious scent of roast something being cooked in the kitchens. They had managed to leave the changing rooms before Malfoy, who was still trying to fit the struggling snitch in its box. They had hardly gone 10 feet past the gates, however, when a sharp voice yelled over to them.

"Hey, Potter!" Malfoy's voice carried easily over to them in the still fall air. "I want a word with you. Weasel, go on in to dinner."

Ron gave Harry a questioning look that made Harry shrug. "Who knows? Go ahead and go to dinner though, I'll be there in a bit." Ron still looked uneasy though, so Harry continued "I'll be fine. Seriously. Just go."

"He'll probably turn you into a cricket, mate," Ron said seriously. Harry shook his head and motioned for him to leave.

With one last glace at Harry, Ron hurried on into the castle and left Harry standing there waiting for Malfoy to catch up.


End file.
